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Hi, this is Diane Student and I'm the writer for today's episode of the Lyft, restitution.

If you enjoyed the story, you can find out more about me at my website,

Diane Verse, D-I-A-N-V-E-R-S-E dot com, or more about my podcast that I co-host,

History Ghostbump, at history ghostbump.com. Find more episodes of the lift at

victoria's lift.com the building stands here again just as it did

20 years ago this very night my mind flashes back and remembers hiding in the bramble bushes

too frightened to notice that the points of the

branches were clawing at the skin of my face and hands.

My hands.

A genetic aberration had left my fingers fused to each other with only my thumb free to work alone.

So my hands were basically flippered appendages.

They were the reason I had crouched in among the bushes. So my hands were basically flippered appendages. They were the reason I had crouched in among the bushes, straining my ears and startling at every snap of a twig or crunch of gravel

beneath the shoes of Billy Bratton. Come out, freak boy, I remember Billy yelling near my hiding spot.

I eased myself out from the brambles and slid over behind a large live oak trunk,

...